The Gathering
by Slytherin2005
Summary: During Harry's duel with Voldemort during the Triwizard Tournament Harry is sent from our world, to a completely different one. He loses his memory, adopts the name Jodah and is raised by a mage named Voska, and learns new magic. XO w/ Magic: The Gatherin
1. The Duel

**Disclaimer: I own nothing…simple as that.**

Chapter 1 – The Duel

_Through the centuries there are a number of legendary figures that have come to us from the time of the Dark – figures, such as Ith, the horrific Rag Man, Vervamon the Elder, and Tivadar of Thorn. Yet one figure is an enigma among these enigmas. Time and again throughout the period of the Dark – and up to the end of the Ice Age itself – there is reference to a folk figure known as Jodah. It has been suggested that Jodah is the surname of a family of sorcerers, or a honorific title of respect, or that Jodah is a previously unknown Planeswalker. The fact remains that Jodah (be he one or many) is today regarded as one of the founders of magic as we now know it._

Harry held his breath as he felt his feet slam into the ground, letting out a hiss of pain as he landed on his already injured leg. He collapsed to the ground and lay there as he attempted to gather his wits, and catch his breath. Slowly he raised his head and looked around, seeing a foreboding and overgrown graveyard. _The Triwizard Cup was a portkey! Is this part of the Third Task?_ Harry was jerked from his silent thoughts as he heard a grown coming from his left side. He glanced over and noticed that Cedric had been pulled into this strange new place with him.

Harry rushed over to Cedric's side and shook him, "Cedric, are you alright?" Harry only received a grown in response. Harry shook his head and drew his wand, "Aguamenti". A jet of cold water hit Cedric in the face and he jerked awake.

"Harry? Where are we, do you think this is part of the task?" Cedric stood up and glanced down at the Triwizrd Cup, "Did anyone tell you that the cup was a portkey?"

Harry shook his head. "I think that we should keep our wands out, I don't like the look of this place." Cedric nodded and withdrew his wand from his sleeve. Harry couldn't shake himself of the feeling that they were being watched. _But by who?_ Slowly Harry began to walk forward, towards what he assumed was the center of the grave yard. Cedric followed behind the young Gryffindor and kept an eye for any enemies that might have approached them from behind.

Both boys suddenly spun to their right as they heard a twig snap and raised their wands at an approaching figure. This figure was short and squat, covered in a dark robe and cloak. The hood was drawn up over the figure's head and he was carrying a small bundle with great care. The figure continue to walk between the graves with slow, deliberate strides. As he got nearer, Harry was certain now that it was a he for the bottom half of his face was visible beneath his cloak now, the object being cradled in his arms became more clear. It was a bundle of robes. Harry and Cedric slowly began to lower their wands, and for a short time no body moved.

Suddenly, and without warning, Harry's scare exploded with pain. Harry felt a agaony that was beyond anything that he could ever have imagined. The pain was radiating from his scar throughout his hid and down throughout his body, he felt every muscle in his body tighten up and he collapsed to the ground. "C…c…cedric, you h…h…have to get o…out of here. V…o….ldemort is here, take the c…c…up and go!" Harry managed to ground out a few short sentences to his friend, before the seizure prevented even that.

Cedric looked at his friend in horror as blood poured down his face from the scar on his forehead. He hesitated but Harry shouted at him to leave again, and quickly he spun raising his wand and shouted "Accio". The Triwizard Cup flew across the graveyard and just before he caught it he caught a glimpse of the cloaked figure raising his wand and shouting "Avada Kedavra". Cedric watched as death approached him, felt the pull behind his navel, and was whisked away. The Killing Curse passing harmlessly through the air where he had been and turning a gravestone to dust upon impact.

Slowly the pain in his scar began to recede and Harry was able to open his eyes. He felt himself being dragged to his feet as the cloaked man tied him to a headstone. In a haze Harry noticed that the name upon the tombstone was TOM RIDDLE. As the man was busy tying Harry to the tombstone, Harry caught a full glimpse of the man's face. Wormtail. Harry began to struggle with rage and screamed at the traitor, "You! Your lying two faced bastard! When I get off this rock I'm going to rip you head off! I should have let Sirius and Remus take care of you when they had the chance!"

But Wormtail did not respond, he merely looked at Harry and as the young boy opened his mouth to continue his tirade, Wormtail roughly shoved a roll of black cloth into the boy's mouth. Without a word Wormtail then walked behind Harry and headed off into the cemetery. After a few minutes Harry heard Wormtail returning and saw him pushing a large stone cauldron as he came into this line of vision. The contents seemed to simply be water, not some sinister potion, although due to his lack of prowess in that particular field Harry was unable to be sure. Harry was also quite sure that this was the largest cauldron he had ever seen, he easily could have sat down inside of it and had room to spare.

The creature that had been wrapped in the bundle of robes began to twitch, in either excitement or fear Harry was not certain. "Hurry Wormtail, I have waited 15 years for this moment, I do not wish to waste anymore time." Harry's eyes widened in shock as Voldemort's voice came forth from the…thing. Harry looked back to the cauldron and saw that the water had begun to boil, Wormtail had apparently lit a fire underneath it using his wand. Harry heard a high cold laugh from the creature and once again it shouted "Hurry".

The surface of the potion looked as if it were glass, except that it was black. It looked as though it were covered in black diamonds. "It is ready, Master" Wormtail said as he bowed and picked up what was left of the Dark Lord. He slowly carried him to the cauldron and placed him inside. _Let him drown, please, for the love of Merlin, let him drown_. Wormtail began speaking, "Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!" The ground at Harry's feet split open and a cloud of dust rose from the ground and settled on top of the liquid in the caldron. The liquid hissed and turned from black to a neon blue. Suddenly Wormtail began to sob as he withdrew a long and sinister knife from within the folds of his robes. His voice broke into sobs, "Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master." He extended his right hand out over the cauldron, and with a quick upward stroke cut his hand from his arm. The potion turned from blue to the color of blood, and emitted a sickly glow. By this point Wormtail was moaning in agony and barely able to stand up due to blood loss, however he still managed to stumble his way to Harry. "Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will, resurrect your foe."

Harry watched in horror, and he could do nothing to prevent it, as Wormtail took the knife and slice his arm from elbow to wrist. Wormtail took a vial from within his robes and collected Harry's blood in it. The traitor slowly staggered back to the cauldron where be poured Harry's blood. The red liquid instantly turned to a blinding white. The cauldron began to spit and simmer, shooting sparks out in all directions. White light bathed the area surrounding it with the light of a thousand suns. Then it stopped, everything ceased to move and the light ceased to glow. _Let it have failed_, Harry hoped, _Let him have drowned_. And then, slowly, through the mist that was in front of him a tall skeleton of a man with snake features and glowing red eyes rose from the cauldron, Lord Voldemort had risen again.

Voldemort looked around the graveyard, and without glancing at Wormtail lazily said, "Hold out your arm." The rat did as he was ordered and Voldemort pressed his finger against the Dark Mark that was branded upon the skin. Silently he summoned his Death Eaters to him, wondering who would return, and who would be foolish enough to stay away.

The air was suddenly filled with loud cracks has wizards apparated in from all sides, and began to surround the trio. Voldemort began to speak to the assembled Death Eaters but Harry was unable to pay attention to what he was saying due to the pain in his scar. Suddenly Voldemort trailed off and trained his wand upon Harry, "Crucio". Harry writhed in pain against the gravestone. "And now we duel, young Harry Potter. You shall not defeat me again, there is no escape." Harry's bindings were severed and he collapsed to the ground and withdrew his wand from his pocket.

"We bow to each other, Harry," said Voldemort, bending slightly at the waste but keeping his bright eyes focused upon Harry. Voldemort raised his wand and paused, "You will never bother me again young Potter, I will not kill you, but I will dispose of you." Before Harry could comprehend what the Dark Lord had said Voldemort shouted out "Expulseo ab terra Harry Potter!" A sickly yellow beam of light surrounded by black bolts of energy shot from his wand, and Harry, unable to move was struck in the chest.

The Death Eathers watched in fascination as, Harry Potter, in a bright flash of yellow light, was no more.

A body fell from the sky, a height of around five to six feet, and landed hard upon the ground. The figure slowly stirred and sat up looking at the landscape around him. It was harsh and barren. The sky overhead was covered with dark clouds and no trace of sunlight could be seen. The landscape was covered with destroyed trees, and dirt. No living plant life could be seen. The boy stood slowly and looked around, then looked down at himself. He was wearing black robes and his vision was being blurred by the device that was in front of his eyes. He took them off and suddenly his world came into focus.

The boy spun around as a screech echoed through the hills. Suddenly from previously unseen holes four small creatures came tumbling out. They were small, only two to three feet tall, but they were stocky….and green. The boy looked at these things with blatant curiosity, until they all drew rusted swords from their belts and began to close in on him with a practiced ease. The boy fell down in his haste to get away, scurried to his feet and began to sprint away as fast as his legs would carry him. But no matter how fast he ran, or how many fallen trees he jumped over the creatures continued to gain on him.

The boy sprang over a fallen log when his foot caught on a tangle of branches and he crashed forward into a pool of crystal clear water. The boy felt energized as the magical energy of the pool invaded his body, and mind. Quickly the boy climbed out of the water and continued his flight from the green creatures. As he was running down a wooded hill his foot caught a large rock and he tumbled end over end down to the bottom. The creatures began to close in and stood around him, looking. The largest of the four raised his knife and the boy closed his eyes, when suddenly there was a flash of red light and the creature let out a cry of pain and burst into flames. The other three creatures turned around and ran as fast as they could towards their holes. The boy looked over his shoulder and saw a man walking towards him with his hand raised.

The man wore blue robes with a brown leather satchel hanging over his left shoulder. He slowly lowered his arm and ran over to the boy. "Who are you? What were those things? Where am I?" The boy asked.

The man looked towards the fleeing figures and replied, "I am Voska, a traveling mage. And as for your second question, those were Lesser Goblins. Deadly to those who are unarmed and unprepared, but otherwise merely an annoyance once you know how to deal with them. Finally, as for where you are, you're in the land of Terisiare in the time of the Dark. You should also be thankful you tripped where you did, boy, that pool you landed in was a Fountain of Youth. According to legend they appear to those who subconsciously call to them, and they only appear once every few millennia. You can tell them by the rune stones surrounding them. But it's gone now, and I know I'll never see one again. Enough of an old man's ramblings, what's your name boy?" Voska looked down at the boy expectantly, with kind and patient eyes.

The boy looked down at his hands, and then stared up at Voska in horror, eyes wide, "I can't remember."

_**There's the first chapter of the story. Let me know what you think. The next chapter will be Jodah growing up till his mid-twenties, so it will cover ten years or so and will be relatively short because I know that I hate stories that go into excruciating detail about filler years and take forever to get to the actual plot. Anyway, let me know what you thought. If you hadn't guessed the boy is Harry Potter, but will take the name Jodah. Throughout the next few chapters he will remember who he was and will learn the art of magic from Voska.**_

_**Review please.**_


	2. Calling Upon The Land

**Disclaimer – I own nothing…simple as that.**

**I want to thank by beta for putting up with my constant barrage of probably annoying questions about trivial plot points in this story lol. Thanks Korrag.**

**To answer some reviews, I know that Jodah is a real figure in the Magic universe. Harry Potter IS Jodah. I know who Jodah's ancestry is, just read the story and it will make sense. All will be explained in the following chapter, stick with me, please. This is going to be a very good story.**

Chapter 2 – Calling Upon the Land

_There is a thread through the snow-clogged millennia of the Ice Age, a name that appears again and again, always when something important occurs. Sometimes that name is tangential, in the background, or present only as a hint in some ancient translation, but one name is always there. The name is Jodah. There have been theories and ballads written about the man or men who were Jodah. Some say he was a family of spectacular mages. Others state that he was a singularity, a failed planeswalker. Still others say that he was cursed by the planeswalkers themselves for crimes unknown, fated to walk the plane until he found another being suitable to take his burden of eternal life. Some say that the "Jodah" name was nothing more than a title applied by the mages of the School of the Unseen to their most rebellious and brilliant pupils._

_Whatever his or their origins, the Jodah appears again and again over the ice centuries. He is in legends describing the appearance of the great silver statues of the Adarkar Wastes. He appears in the ballads of the Quest of the Mad Zur, who sought immortality and set of a magical war in Kjeldor before vanishing. He is prominent in the tales of Freyalise's ascension as a planeswalker. He was a witness to the fall of Tresserhorn during the Age of Storms. And he is a regular feature in the fragmented lore of the School of the Unseen. In their surviving tomes, whenever their Archmage Eternal was mentioned by name, it was always Jodah._

_All that can be said is that during the larger events of two and a half thousand years, there was normally a Jodah somewhere in the story._

Jodah looked at the pile of twigs he was to set on fire. This was a test, and he hated tests. It was cold, and Jodah knew that Voska would have been able to start the fire with a motion of his hand and a few ancient words. But that was not the point of this exercise, Jodah realized. The point was for Jodah to se the tinder on fire without flint or any other aid. He was required to use his own mind. Jodah continued to star at the pile of dry twigs with something akin to hatred, in his mind he remembered a voice calling to him, telling him that for magic to work he must mean it, _You must mean it, Potter. You must want to cause the spell to work for it to function properly. You must want to cause pain_. Jodah knew that Bellatrix had been wrong, at least where this type of magic was concerned.

After the many travels with Voska Jodah had learned that simple force of will did not have a great affect on how magic functioned. If sheer force of will determined how magic functioned, then Jodah would already be a powerful mage, more powerful than Voska, even more powerful than Urza and Mishra, the bringers of the Devastation. More powerful than anyone. But sheer willpower, anger, hatred, or any other emotion did not unleash the magic. That was the first lesson that Voska had taught him. There were many other paths that led to the magic, and his time as Voska's apprentice had taught him that much at the very least.

The fact that he had been traveling with Voska was actually a stroke of luck, if the old man had not come along when he had, Jodah would most likely be dead at the hands of Lesser Goblin raiders. Over the past five years he had been apprenticed to Voska, and during that time only in the last two years had he truly begun to learn the secrets of magic. The things that boys lay awake at night imagining they would someday know, the knowledge with which they could bend the world to their wishes. Upon learning the secrets of magic Jodah was disappointed to discover that there were rules, and that one could not become a powerful wizard over night.

Jodah allowed his mind to wander and thought back to that day five years ago, the day that set him upon this path, and began his new life.

FLASHBACK

_The boy looked down at his hands, and then stared up at Voska in horror, eyes wide, "I can't remember." The boy began to rack his brain for any sign of who he was, and only flashes of a past life came to him. A tall and reptilian looking man cackling evilly, an old man with kind sparkling blue eyes, a huge castle surrounded by mountains, a dark and ominous forest containing large swamps, plains of grass and a gigantic lake, and finally a redheaded boy and a bushy haired girl smiling at him. Finally he looked up at Voska and whispered in a voice think with terror, "I don't remember. Help me….Please."_

_Voska looked down at the boy with a mixture of pity and concern. He knew that he couldn't leave the boy here, yet if he were to take him with him to Hallowfel, a full week's distance away, neither of them might survive. Yet he knew there was more to this boy than met the eye. He was able to summon a Fountain of Youth to him, and that alone was a reason to consider him for apprenticeship. The Fountain of Youth granted those who drank from its waters youth and longevity, but the fact that this mysterious boy had been submerged in the water meant he would live for thousands of years and still retain his youth. Even after millennia he would most likely not look a day over 50. He would age normally until the age of 25 and from then on age slowly over the course of his lifetime, however long it would last._

_The old wizard stroked his beard. Something about the boy caused his heart to soften. "Alright lad, you can come with me to Hallowfel. Once we get there we'll take you to a priest and they can sort this out. They should be able to makes a potion to restore your memory, and if not, they should be quite capable of providing you with a lineage potion. That will show us who you are." Voska extended his hand to help the boy up._

"_Thank you, sir. I don't know how I'll be able to repay you for your kindness." The boy accepted the extended hand and pulled himself to his feet. Voska turned around and beckoned for the boy to follow him back to his camp._

_As Voska was walking he glanced over his shoulder and saw the boy following him, "We'll need to give you a name, I can't keep calling you 'boy' now can I? How does the name 'Jodah' sound, it means 'mysterious origin' in the language of my ancestors." The boy slowly repeated the name aloud, allowing to roll over his tongue and to become acquainted with the sound of it. Slowly a smile spread over his face and he nodded his head. "Good, then it's settled, you're now Jodah. Come, you must be hungry." _

_Together they sat down and Voska waved his hand over a pile of twigs inside a ring of stones and muttered words inaudible to Jodah, and almost miraculously the twigs caught fire. Jodah jumped back in surprise, "W…what the…What was that?"_

_Voska chuckled merrily, "That, my young friend, was magic." And so began a hesitant companionship, that over the course of their journey to Hallowfel turned into a tentative friendship. Upon finally arriving at the town a week later, the pair was out of food and running dangerously low on supplies. So after purchasing the necessary goods for another journey they headed to the Temple at the center of town to seek answers to Jodah's questions. When they entered the Temple they were greeted by the priest, who in the community of Hallowfel functioned not just as the spiritual advisor but also as the healer and confidant of many of the villagers. The priest was a tall man with long auburn hair pulled back into a ponytail and possessing a face covered in wrinkles. He had kind grey eyes that seemed to sparkle when he smiled. "We need a lineage potion if you have one, Pontifex, and a memory restoration potion as well if you can manage it." Voska said as they sat down around a table in the back corner of the Temple's greeting room._

_The priest nodded his held slowly, "Which one of you has lost their memory I wonder?" He chuckled. "Neither of those should be a problem, they will cost you 12 pieces of gold. Return here 2 hours and they will be ready."_

_Jodah and Voska stood up and headed out of the Temple nodding thanks to the priest on the way out. The two explored the town for the next two hours before returning to the temple to purchase the potions. As they walked into the brewing room of the Temple the priest set down the book he had been reading and crowed, "Hoho, they have returned. The potions you have requested are there on the table, take them, and leave your gold." Voska gathered up the two bottles and took Jodah by the shoulder and steered him from the room._

"_Why was he so inhospitable?" Jodah looked up at his master questioningly._

"_The people of Hallowfel are well known for being kind to those who they have known for a lifetime, However, if you're not one of them, don't expect any courtesies. They wouldn't even give a stranger the time of day unless there was something in it for them." Voska chuckled to himself, "Come lets get back to our room at the inn and see if we can restore your memories."_

_As they got back to their room the two sat down at the wooden table and Voska poured each of them a cup of water from the pitcher on the mantle. He handed the potion to the boy and simply said, "Lineage potion, if you mix a drop of your blood with the potion and then pour it onto a piece of parchment it will draw your family tree with their locations they are from next to their name."_

_Jodah looked at the potion hesitantly before withdrawing a knife from his belt and pricking his finger. He winced as he broke the skin but squeezed a couple drops of blood into the potion and poured it onto the parchment. Rapidly lines, much like a spider web began to appear. Showing his name Jodah (Terisiare)/Harry Potter (Terra), and his parents names James and Lily Potter (Terra). Up the ancestral line from his mother he saw the name Rose Evans (Terra) who was married to Jarsyl (Terisiare). This caused him to let out a gasp of surprise, "Voska, look here. It says my original name, and it also says I'm descended from this man Jarsyl who is from this land. Even though everyone else on the family tree is from Terra, what does that mean?"_

_Voska looked at the tree with amazement, "Looks like old Jarsyl succeded, although his destination was a bit off. Many generations ago there was a powerful Black mage named Jarsyl, he made it his life goal to open a portal to another plane of existence called Phyrexia, because he believed that if he could do this he would have access to untold amounts of knowledge and power. Legend has it that he opened his portal, went through and was never heard from again. Looks like we know where he ended up lad. Now what name should we call you, Jodah or Harry?"_

_The boy looked at the parchment, "Jodah." Voska looked at him quizzically. "I live in Terisiare now right? Not this plane called Terra, so I might as well be Jodah, a new name for a new life." With that being said he grabbed the memory restoration potion and drained it of its contents and was suddenly assailed by a barrage of memories. He remembered the Dursley's and the school Hogwarts. His friends Ron and Hermione and the powers that he was born with. He told all these to Voska and said one simple phrase before passing out, "I'm a wizard."_

_Upon waking, Voska looked at the boy and said, "Well, looks like your brand of magic won't work here, maybe I'll have to teach you a new way to defend yourself. What do you say to that boy, how would you like to be my apprentice?"_

END FLASHBACK

The now twenty year old Jodah shook his head attempting to clear it of the memories and anger that clouded his mind. For three years Voska had refused to train him in the arts of magic, making him focus on meditation and physical training such as swordplay and fighting with a dagger. Upon his eighteenth birthday Voska had begun to teach him the theories of magic and finally, today, he thought that Jodah was ready to control the energies by himself.

Jodah straightened his shoulders and cleared all traces of anger and irritation from his mind. His dark hair, long and worn loose for these past several years grazed his cheeks and several strands hung in front of his bright green eyes. Again he shook his head and the motion did little to clear his thoughts, but the action felt good. It felt right, like he was supposed to do it. That was one of the first lessons that Voska had taught about magic, it must feel right. Jodah took a long deep breath and let it out slowly.

Jodah stared at the pile of leaves and twigs again, but now something was different. Instead, now he was not looking at it. Rather he was looking beyond it and he was thinking of the land. That was one of the keys to magic, and Voska had hammered that lesson home early in his apprenticeship. The land held all of its power close, and it waited for one with the talent, will and the patience to call that power forth. The calling forth of the power involved memories, coming to know the land as one knew one's self. In most cases, to know the land better, than one knew one's self.

Jodah thought of the mountains, high and cold, that towered above the castle of Hogwarts. Memories of mountains held a great and terrible power, Voska had always said, power of flame and storm. Fire came directly from the mountains, and the memories of the mountains could be used by the wizard to capture the power of the flame. Jodah had seen Voska do this very same thing hundreds of times, including on the day of their first meeting. He had done it before as well, but with Voska's help. Now he was expected to do it on his own. The problem was Jodah had no familiarity with the mountains, and the memories required to harness their power would not come. The ominous peaks surrounding Hogwarts were always remote, they always stood sentinel against any dangers that threatened to attack from the East and South. He then thought of the mountains that they had visited in their travels over the past five years. These were the lands that were home to the long forgotten civilizations of the dwarves and of the new tribes of goblins and orcs. These mountains were well respected and recognized far and wide, but they were also feared. Voska, on the other hand had no fear of mountains, for he grew up among their frost peaks and in their hot underbellies, he was a native of the Kher peaks and the mountains were his home.

Instead of mountains Jodah found his thoughts wandering to his own homeland, England on the far away plane of Terra. He thought of the rolling fields and rich plains that covered the countryside. In many areas of the country one could ride a horse for hours and not come upon another living individual. Part of his mind told Jodah that he should forget the plains and hillsides and refocus on the fire magic that lived in the memories of the mountains. But he could not break away from this memory of his long lost home. Jodah saw a light shining from the memories of his homeland, that was the magic. This was the mystical power that drove all different types of spell casting, this was the stuff of dreams. But this was not mountain magic, this was not filled with heat and stone. This was the energy from farmlands and plains, this was white magic.

Unfortunately this was the wrong type of energy for lighting fires, but it was all that he could grasp. To attempt to contain the magic, to harness it and suppress it would damage him, Jodah knew this from another of Voska's first lessons. Jodah pulled upon the energy much like one pulls thread from a ball of yarn. Part of his mind saw the fire-pit but the rest of his mind was elsewhere, in his far away England. He gathered the energy together and focused onto the small twigs, and then something inside of him moved. Jodah's eyes suddenly sprang open on his lean face and the young man shifted forward with his hands spread wide. A great ball of light shot out and hit the fire pit, this was not lightning but rather light itself. It washed all color from the surroundings from the trees, the stones, and even the clothes they wore.

In the next moment the light rose like a phoenix through the tree branches above his head and exploded in with the brilliance of the sun and then everything went dark, and Jodah knew no more.

**AUTHORS NOTE: Alright let me know what you think. If I get more reviews I'll update quickly again. Not as quickly as this but still rapidly lol. Do it and Voska will be happy.**


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